


The Glass And The Fairy Creatures

by sweetlikeapplepie



Category: Fake News FPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Established Relationship, Fluff, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Romance, Sad with a Happy Ending, wifeless-au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-04
Updated: 2017-06-04
Packaged: 2018-11-08 16:06:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,094
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11085105
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sweetlikeapplepie/pseuds/sweetlikeapplepie
Summary: Alternate Universe in which "Stephen" struggles to accept his feelings for Jon.Or the one where "Stephen" and Jon move in together.





	The Glass And The Fairy Creatures

**Author's Note:**

> This Alternate Universe I basically just made up, so let me explain a few things!
> 
> "souls" (as I first described them when the idea first came to me) are: What every human has in the middle of their chest. A physical, visible soul resembling a glassy sphere with small flower buds the color of the human's thoughts and feelings.
> 
> A human's "color" refers to the category they belong to. There are four categories, each with their color. There are blue, pink, orange and yellow humans. Blue humans are noble and selfless. They place others before themselves and try to help others as much as they can, sometimes risking themselves. Pink humans are flirty and joyful and eternally youthful in heart. They are the easiest to get along with. Orange humans are level-minded, fair and balanced. Yellow humans are the kindest of all humans. They are very sensible and caring and sweet. Their feelings are easily hurt, and when they find a human they fall in love with, their soul cracks. A silver or grey soul means the human hasn't succeeded in coming to terms with their true feelings and thoughts.
> 
> "last dreams" are dreams that send a human somewhere else entirely. Either to another dimension or to another planet. When humans sleep they all run the risk of dreaming a "last dream", vanishing them from the green dimension where all humans live. When they are vanished from the green dimension, most humans forget their past lives.
> 
> It should be noted that "Humans" are different from "people". People don't have physical souls and hence they pay little attention to the concept of souls, while to humans souls are the most important part of them.

Stephen's eyes were wide open and aware. Aware to the subtle movements of shadows against the wall of the bedroom. Leaf shadows. Of different sizes and shapes, and well, of the same color. Because, Stephen realized, all shadows were the same color. Shadow color. It had been a couple of days since he started feeling like a lump the size of a small rock was settling on his throat. Or his stomach, he couldn't really tell. There was just this feeling he couldn't shake off, no matter how hard he tried. And he liked to tell himself that he tried pretty hard...like on everything he did. Just the best from the best. Or something like that. He was facing up towards the ceiling, starting into the dome-shaped window that had made him fall in love with the place the first time he set foot inside. It was antique, with dark wood decorating the floors and frames of doors and windows. Jon had insisted in getting a smaller place that perhaps had fewer and smaller bedrooms, but Stephen prided himself in being the head-strong one of the two and told Jon that if he let him choose the house he'd stop making a fuss every time Jon brought up something bad President George Bush did. Of course Stephen was lying, and of course Jon knew that, but nonetheless he accepted because as Stephen recalled Jon saying, _it was sweet of him to at least make the offer_. And of course, Stephen agreed.

Jon was sleeping next to him, the soft breathing noises making Stephen smile in the darkness of the room. He liked being like this. Awake while Jon was asleep. This way he could watch his chest rise and fall without feeling the need to suppress his feelings. Feelings that he tried extra hard to convince himself weren't there. He turned around to lay on his side, his back to the window, his eyes starring into Jon's closed ones. The feeling came back. He instinctively placed his hand on his soul. The glass felt icy cold as it usually did. The little flower buds inside glowed a silvery color. Jon's soul was very blue. It had been lighter when he first met him, he recalls. A light turquoise kind of blue. Now it resembled the blue of a blue jay's feathers. Blue was a pretty color, Stephen thought. It was the color of the ocean and of the sky, and it was the color of Jon's eyes. Stephen closed his eyes, trying to will the unsettling feeling out his mind. He'd been feeling uneasy all week long, as if some part of him knew something bad was going to happen soon. He kept calling Jon at work to ask if he was okay at least twice every day for the past two weeks. And every time the answer was, _Yes Stephen. I'm fine_. You don't have to worry about me. But Stephen did worry, and he worried a lot. He was thinking about this when he felt a warm hand gently squeeze one of his own. He opened his eyes slowly, the blue in Jon's eyes starring back at him. He was smiling. He smiled a lot, and Stephen liked that. He also played with his hair and found any excuse to hold his hand and Stephen didn't really know why but he also liked that. Well, he didn't want to think about the why.

Jon was starring at him, smiling, and Stephen didn't know what to do except squeeze his hand back and smile shyly. Like a friend would smile at another friend of course. They slept fully clothed because Stephen insisted that doing otherwise would be gay and that catholic male humans like himself couldn't be that. To Jon it didn't really matter. Jon was a blue human, which meant he could pair with a yellow or orange human. Pinks didn't go well with Blues, and Jon was okay with that because he didn't like them that much anyways. It was a little taboo to pair with a human of a color with which your own color wasn't compatible, but humans of all four colors did it. Of course, at the end those relationships ended up not working out. So Jon didn't care if Stephen was a male human. He wasn't catholic or religious at all for that matter. But he cared that Stephen didn't have a color. He cared not because of himself, for he knew for sure he couldn't be a pink, He worried because of what that meant. It meant Stephen wasn't allowing his soul to feel or think as it wanted to, and Jon thought that was rather sad.

They stared at each other for a few minutes, Stephen shutting his eyes for brief moments. He was starting to doze off when he felt Jon's hand on his hair. Twirling the strands with his fingers.

"You asleep?" he heard him say, making him slip into full awareness once again.

"No." Stephen replied. His eyes fixed on Jon who was still playing with his hair.

"You still have that feeling? That you say kind of comes from your gut?" he half laughed when he said that and Stephen thought that was rather rude.

"Yes, Jon. I still have that gut feeling." he tried sounding strong but he could hear the uncertainty in his own voice.  
Jon's face turned serious, as if he could pick up the worry in Stephen's voice. And he didn't doubt he had. That was the type of human Jon was.

"Would it help if I hug...hugged you through the night? Friends hug all the time, you know." Jon offered. Smiling, but with a type of smile that made Stephen know that he was taking the matter seriously. Stephen noded the nod of a child.

"That's true. Friends hug." he acknowledged, turning around and scooting closer to Jon who gently pressed his chest against Stephen's back. He could feel the warmth from Jon's soul on his back, Jon's hands on his stomach. Friends hug.

For Jon it was a weird thing. Trying to convince Stephen that two male humans sleeping together on a same bed embracing was a thing friends could and would do. It was strange because he also had to convince him that buying a house and living together was also a thing friends did. It was strange, but Jon was okay with strange if that meant having Stephen like this. His cold back to his chest. Like a moon to a sun.

~

When Stephen woke up the next day, Jon had already left for work. The bedroom was really big. Sometimes it felt too big in fact. Outside it was cloudy and rainy and Stephen really hated days like this because Jon always took longer to come home. Traffic and whatnot. Jon worked as the host for a satire tv show and Stephen quite liked that, but he didn't like the things Jon said. He figured it was okay. He never failed to bring up how wrong Jon was about their current president and how wrong he was about virtually everything else that involved politics. Stephen had worked as a correspondent at the show for a few years, until he fell trying to reach some books from a shelf whilst standing on a stool propped up on a chair. Yes he'd heard Jon tell him that wasn't such a good idea, but his gut didn't think it was bad at all. So he had an ugly fall, his wrist had taken the hit and it broke. _I can't work with a broken wrist, Jon_. _That's just not proper. It's my right wrist too!_ He'd said. But Stephen didn't really write that much anyways, besides there was a thing called a computer where any hand would do, but Jon didn't bring any of that up and gave Stephen leave. It was a year and a half since that. Back then they weren't living together. Back then Jon's soul wasn't as dark as it was now, Stephen recalled. It was sky blue. They'd have discussions about politics and well, mostly about that. But somewhere along the line they started talking about other things, like why Stephen's soul didn't have a color. But Stephen really didn't want to talk about that, so Jon didn't bring it up again. They spoke about society and people and what's wrong with the world. Those things. And Stephen, for some reason, always brought up male human relationships with other male humans.

"It's not right, Jon." he'd said one day while they sipped coffee in Jon's office. Stephen hadn't broken his wrist yet, so he was still working for The Daily Show.

"Why Stephen? There's nothing wrong with a male human loving another male human. When two souls attract, that doesn't really matter." He said that in a way that made Stephen feel really uncomfortable. How could Jon say that? How could it not bother him? Had he ever had those feelings for another male human?

"Well, Jon..." he began, "I just don't see how any of that would lead anywhere good. You know, two male humans can't have babies together." he tapped his fingers against his thigh, making Jon feel a little distracted.

"Well, they could always adopt. There's nothing wrong with that. Well, if they wanted to have kids." he offered. But Stephen wasn't convinced, and Jon could tell. Nonetheless, even if he never succeeded in convincing Stephen that his beliefs were perhaps not the best, he always felt the need to persist. It was as if he knew it was something he had to do. He almost felt it was something Stephen wanted to hear.

But now Stephen was living with Jon and he told himself every morning that they were living together as really good friends. Yes they slept on the same bed, but there was never any funny business, and Stephen comforted himself with that.

"Would you ever?" Stephen had asked the first night they slept together in the house.

"...fall in love with another male human?" Jon asked, trying to phrase his sentences as adequately as he could.

"No!" Stephen nearly spat his noodles. They sat on a rug in the middle of the living room. Their plates on their laps. "I mean, would you ever...you know, have..."

"Sex with another male human?" That gave Jon hope. Because for him things were clearer. You didn't just decide to buy a house with your friend. You didn't share a bed with a friend, or sleep hugging each other. Jon wanted Stephen, and he made no attempts to hide that from himself, because it was something that made him happy. And ever since he'd moved into the new house and he started doing normal every-day-things with him, his soul had began to turn bluer and bluer each day.

"Yes." Stephen replied hesitantly. His eyes glued to the bowl in front of him as he twirled the fork around the pasta.

"Well, if I found someone I really loved. You know, if I fell in love with a male human, I would." And Jon too was staring down at his plate as he replied. That left Stephen a little shaken and confused.

"So you think you could...fall in love with a male human?" his eyes grew wide, this time he looked straight ahead into Jon's blues, as if trying to figure something out.

"Well, I..." he tried concentrating on Stephen's eyes. The way they seemed to be expecting a sincere answer, almost promising not to judge. "I think I could fall in love with a male human, yes." It was frustrating because he had. He loved Stephen. But he couldn't really tell him because, well, that would scare him off.  
Stephen's eyes widened even more, and it occurred to Jon that somehow he was asking for permission to feel what he was feeling, but maybe that was simply him being hopeful. They ate the rest of the meal in almost perfect silence, making small remarks about unimportant things here and there.

Stephen liked living here with Jon. It was...nice, he thought. He read a lot throughout the day, watched the news, but mostly waited for Jon to come home. It kept raining, and on normal days the sound of the rain would help to ease out his anxieties (which were many), but this wasn't a normal day. Ever since he started to feel inexplicably uneasy, his days hadn't really been that normal. His mood moved in waves through the afternoon. Mild annoyance, intense irritability, a strange feeling of melancholy and with each the accompaniment of the rock-like sensation in his throat.

When Jon finally arrived home, Stephen woke from a brief nap with the creek of the main entrance door. He sat straight up in the creamy-colored sofa where he'd dozed off, a book on his lap. He picked it up with both hands attempting to seem casual and definitely not waiting for the second Jon walked in. He heard footsteps nearer and nearer and then there he was standing in front of him with takeout in one hand.

"Hi" he heard Jon say with that half smile that Stephen really really liked.

"Hey!" he replied cheerfully, like any friend would. with no worries or hesitation. He placed his book down using the surface as a bookmark, his eyes on the bag of food in Jon's hand. "That smells really nice, Jon." the words slurred out of his mouth clumsily.

"Chinese takeout" he replied, placing the bag in front of Stephen, the boxes inside making a soft sound as they hit the table.

"Sounds nice."

They sat together eating, Stephen asked Jon about work and about everybody he didn't really see that often anymore. Jon offered a few words about what was going on and said that everyone was okay. When they were done Jon picked up their boxes and walked into the kitchen to throw them into the trash bin.

"You ever think about coming back?" he asked from the kitchen. The sound of clattering glasses hitting against each other making its way to Stephen's good ear.

"I was thinking about it today", he lied. He didn't want to go back to work. It really was awful. He didn't feel comfortable. Especially now that he and Jon were living together and probably everybody knew. He couldn't even imagine how awful it would be to have to go through that hell. The questions they'd ask him, he felt nauseous just thinking about it.

"Really?" Jon asked once he'd made his way back to the living room, Stephen still glued to his spot on the couch. He saw Jon smile as he opened one beer bottle and then the other. Okay, so they weren't glasses. He took one of them in hand taking one huge gulp and setting it down.

"Jon..." Stephen began. "You know that feeling I said I've been having for weeks?"

"Yeah..." Jon noded setting his own beer down after taking a few drinks.

"It's been worse today. It's like there's a devil in my stomach, Jon. Like something bad is going to happen." His voice was calm and steady and Stephen was really proud of himself.

"Something bad like what?" asked Jon, his beer back in his hand and swinging towards his lips.

"I don't know, as if...you know how some people say that they know when it's going to happen?" Stephen replied, trying to say things in the best possible way. That seemed to catch Jon's attention because he moved closer to Stephen on the couch, their knees touching. His eyes were staring at him in a way that made Stephen fear that a hole would be drilled into his brain. He noticed the color of Jon's soul waver from its normal dark blue to a gray blue. His eyes were fixed on it, noticing the buds flow more rapidly than usual.

"A last dream?" his voice was ragged and grave. Stephen noticed how Jon placed one hand on his knee, moving it up and down slightly. He didn't say anything.

"Yes." he hesitated before replying. Jon knew how it went. He only knew a few people who'd had loved ones vanish through a last dream, and they all said the person knew it was going to happen to them just before it happened. He hated this. "Jon..." Stephen continued. "You know how I once asked you if you could ever have sex with a male human and you said that you could if you loved them..?" Jon's hand was now in the middle of Stephen's left thigh. It felt warm against the cool of his skin.

"I remember that"

"I couldn't." Stephen's lips quivered slightly. "I couldn't do that, Jon. I don't think I could ever fall in love with another male human. That's just not proper." He stared down at the floor. "I don't think I could ever allow myself to." Jon noticed his lips quivering. He placed his hand on Stephen's soul. The silvery buds floating slowly. "I don't think I could allow myself to feel love for another male human...but if I did, I think you'd be the only one I would allow myself to feel that for." Jon noticed a tear trickling down Stephens's cheek and he wiped it out with his hand. He pushed Stephen lightly against the armrest of the couch, hesitating briefly before he pressed his lips against Stephen's. They were soft and they quivered against his own.

"Jon..." Stephen interrupted "Please, no funny business." His eyes were almost apologetic.

"If you don't want to, we don't have to.."

Jon's weight on top of him felt right. It felt like that's how they should be. His breath quickened and he tried taking slow breaths to bring it down to normal, but it only made it worse. "Do friends do this, Jon? Do they lay down on a sofa and kiss and...do they want it as much I want to kiss you right now?"

"There are many types of friends Stephen." Jon replied, trying to keep himself from pressing his lips against Stephen's again. But Stephen had said he wanted to kiss him, hadn't he? He didn't have time to react before he felt Stephen's lips against his own. They kissed him urgently. It was a needy kiss, like he'd been wanting to do it for a long time. They shifted awkwardly on the sofa until Stephen was on top of Jon, pinning him between his legs.

"Jon, you should know that when I say funny business I'm strictly referring to funny business happening in a bedroom setting. As far as I can tell we're in a living room, right?" He pinned Jon's hands over his head against the armrest. It looked more sensual and controlling than it really was. In reality Stephen was terrified beyond belief and was just trying to keep Jon from moving too much.

"Right..." Jon's voice grew slightly darker, almost as if he were afraid too. But Jon was never afraid. Least that's what Stephen thought. "Stephen, I don't know what you're trying to say..."

"Jon, could you..." Stephen unpinned Jon's hands and stood up from the sofa. He ran a hand through his messed up hair, trying to find a way to say what he wanted Jon to do. He struggled with his belt, unbuckling it and landing it on the sofa they had just been sitting in.

"Stephen, are you sure?" Jon asked, inching closer to the man in front of him. He always smelled nice, he thought. He had always thought so, ever since he first met him on the show.

"I'm sure Jon." He replied coyly, trying to stabilize his voice, trying to keep it from shaking. He felt Jon unbutton his pants. He saw his blue eyes staring up at him from where he was kneeling on the floor in front of him. His soul was darker than he had ever seen it before. It was a blue that almost seemed black. He felt Jon pulling the slacks down until they pooled on his feet, then telling him to step out of them so he could place them on the sofa. They were really nice slacks, so Stephen did as he was told. He could feel Jon's warm breaths against the soft fabric of his undergarment. Against his erection.

"Jon, why...why are you doing this?" Stephen asked not even attempting to hide the shaking of his voice. He hadn't noticed when he'd closed his eyes, but he really didn't have the confidence to open them now. Was this really happening? He placed his hands on Jon's shoulders, trying to stabilize his poor shaking legs. Jon must have not heard him, Stephen thought, because he hadn't answered. He felt the cool air against his erection as Jon slid his boxers off.

"Oh Stephen." he heard Jon whisper below him and that made him pay attention. His eyes blinked open. "Oh Stephen, please..." he heard another whisper. He saw Jon's eyes look up at him again, as if asking for permission. They seemed to almost be pleading. He noded yes and closed his eyes shut. He felt Jon's breaths itching closer and closer and then, he almost lost his own breath. Jon licked the tip of Stephen's hardness. It felt so...good. Stephen kept his eyes closed, moving his hands from Jon's shoulders to his hair. He pulled lightly at the strands, focusing on the sensation of Jon's tongue on his erection. Soft and smooth and desperate. He melted into the feeling, drifting into some corner of his mind he'd never been in before.

"Jon, why are you doing this?" he tried again, his eyes open but unwilling to look down. He wanted to know why Jon would do this. Stephen had said he wanted this, he'd been the one to initiate it, but that was only because of his own sinful desires. Desires which he had tried very hard to drown. But Jon? Why could he possibly want to do this? He had told him he was capable of falling in love with a male human, but falling in love was different from sexual acts. Surely it was. But Jon didn't answer again, he didn't answer because by the time Stephen started feeling guilty, he had wrapped his mouth around his erection. The feeling took over Stephen's train of though. Leaving his mind empty and full of electricity at the same time. Jon's mouth ran up and down his shaft and Stephen silently wondered if he was about to die. He leaned against the wall behind him, pulling harder at Jon's hair, trying to keep himself from slipping out of reality. His soul was blinking on and off. The silver glow going black and back on over and over. That made Stephen actually believe he was about to die. He deserved it for putting Jon through this, he thought, but pulled his hair harder. His hips bucked almost involuntarily against Jon's mouth, pulling choking sounds from it. The vibrations making him stutter on his words.

"Oh Jon, I'm going to..." the remorse was almost too much to take. "Jon, I'm so sorry..." his jagged voice trailed off as he came on Jon's mouth. The release ran through his skin as pure bliss and...joy? He pried his eyes open, taking the last glimpse of Jon's mouth around his cock. A rather stupid thought ran briefly through his mind: it was almost endearing. He was about to say something, break the awkward silence between them. Tell Jon how sorry he was, how they could both go their separate ways if that's what he wanted. But then he saw Jon swallow, so he shut up. Jon lifted himself from the floor, his eyes on Stephen. He put a hand on his soul, the soft of his sweater contrasting with the rapid flashes of his soul, still blinking on and off. Stephen felt awkward, exposed. His partial nudity becoming unsettling for the first time.

"Stephen, I...I need you to know something." He noticed Jon's soul was still black-blue. Only that the buds kind of shimmered, as if they had been electrified or something. Their eyes met briefly before Stephen turned to look at Jon's soul again, trying to avoid his gaze.

"Tell me Jon..." he absentmindedly placed a hand to the blue of Jon's chest. It was too hot for Stephen to keep his hand on it for too long, even with the fabric of his dress shirt over it.

"Stephen, I love you." Jon's eyes seemed almost tearful.

"No. You don't. Please don't say that..." he didn't want to tear up, goddammit. Why did he always have to be this weak?

"Yes I do. I love you. I've loved you, ever since I requested that you move in with me so we could get work done more easily. I've loved you since then, and I love you now. And if you vanish tonight, if you don't wake up next to me tomorrow or the day after that or any day for that matter, I think I wouldn't want to live anymore."

"Jon, please don't say those things..." he sobbed lightly, placing four fingers over Jon's mouth. "Don't do that to me." His cheeks were dampened by a few lone tears that trickled down against his will. Jon pulled his hand down and away from his lips, looking at him before pressing a light kiss to Stephen's lips.

"You asked me if I could ever have sex with a male human, and I said that I would if I fell in love with one. And I have. I love you." For a moment Stephen forgot that his bottom half was embarrassingly naked and he wrapped his arms around Jon's neck.

"You love me even though my soul doesn't have a color? Even though I run the risk of being vanished any day? You still love me like that?" The words stabbed his chest. He was broken.

"Yes, I do."

Stephen smiled against the collar of Jon's shirt, staining it with his tears.

~

That night Stephen was having a hard time with words. It was quite unusual. He was the type of human to speak his mind, say what he thought, but this time he was struggling. Politics were different from the soul type of stuff. When he went into the bedroom, Jon was sitting at the edge of his side of the bed, the light from the window making his soul glow in a strange way. It was a little lighter now, it didn't quite look black, but it was still darker than usual. Stephen's on the other hand, hadn't stopped blinking. He watched Jon flip through papers he assumed were related to The Daily Show. He stood there staring at him for a few minutes, trying to muster the courage to speak. Instead Jon looked up from his paperwork, setting it aside as soon as he saw Stephen looking at him. He patted a spot next to him on the mattress, signaling Stephen to join him. A soft smile played on his lips and Stephen wasn't sure if it unsettled him or made him feel better.

"No funny business, until and if you want to." Their eyes met before Stephen could say anything. Any fragment of courage vanished as he looked into Jon's eyes. "I can sleep on the couch until you're ready..." he heard him say. His voice full of care.

"No funny business, Jon." The shorter human nodded. He ran a hand over Jon's stomach, then lowered it down to his belt. He first unbuckled it, then slipped it off and placed it on the night-table. Followed by his pants and then his shirt. He unbuttoned button by button with care, trying to show how much he really...cared about him. He glanced at Jon's chest fur, trying to understand what it was that he was feeling. Jon removed Stephen's undergarments, and Stephen did the same to Jon. The last things to go were Stephen's sweater and then his shirt. Their eyes wandered around each other, almost as two adolescents would. "...but I want to sleep like this. I want to feel your skin against mine. I guess it's more pleasurable for me. Your skin is warm and soft, and mine is cold and rigid" he lamented.

"When you sleep with your back against my chest, I like the sensation of your soul against my skin. It feels nice. Soothing." Jon smiled, a hand on Stephen's shoulder.

Stephen pulled Jon down to the bed, pulling the cover over themselves.Their skin sticking together as if they were meant to be that way, side by side. The darkness of the night flooded the room. Jon wrapped his hands around Stephen, his back to his chest. His soul wasn't actually cold tonight. It almost felt lifeless. Not cold or warm. Jon worried briefly before Stephen intertwined his leg around Jon's, then he only wanted to melt into the feeling of having the human he loved next to him as he slept. He placed soft warm kisses to Stephen's neck, taking in his smell and the feel of his skin. He meant what he said when he told Stephen he wouldn't want to live without him. Then they dozed off, not giving another single minute to their worries.

~

When Jon woke up the next day he found the spot next to him empty and cold. It had finally stopped raining but the sun still hadn't chosen to show itself. He sat up, wiping the sleep from his eyes and trying to fully wake up. He didn't want to move. He didn't want to think about it. Stephen wasn't there. He didn't want to holler his name and not receive a yell back for an answer. He didn't really panic, he merely refused to think about the situation, he refused to think about the things that were running through his mind like a hundred mad bees trying to bite him. But as always, the comatose state of mind one opts for upon realizing that a tragedy is about to unfold, doesn't last very long. As soon as his senses snapped back on completely, he slipped on a pair of boxers and a t-shirt from the closest drawer to him.

"Stephen!" he tried not to sound panicked, but it was really hard when you were in fact panicking. He ran out the room and into the kitchen, calling after him to no avail. "Stephen..." then into the kitchen and the other three bedrooms, finally walking back into their bedroom again. "Ste..."

"In the bathroom" he heard the familiar charmingly snarky tone of Stephen's voice flow out of the master bathroom. He walked slowly towards the door, half believing he was only hearing things. It was only his mind playing tricks on him. He cracked the door open, and surely, there standing in front of the mirror was Stephen. His head was tilted downward, both his hands over his chest covering his soul.

"Stephen, I thought..." Stephen turned to look at him with the utmost face of horror. "Babe, what's wrong? Are you hurt?" He heard his voice crack a little at the end. Stephen didn't say anything, he only continued to stare at Jon with that face of horror mixed with excitement. Then he pealed a hand away from his chest, revealing what Jon could only make out as tiny little flower buds the color of...the color of the yellow brick road. Like little rays of sunshine gushing between Stephen's fingers. Jon pulled the other hand away from Stephen's chest, his soul glowed like a tiny little sun.

"It's broken, Jon" Stephen almost whispered, tracing a crack the size of a nickle with his index finger. There was another smaller one, about the size of a dime right under it. Jon inched closer to him, seeming to hesitate before placing a kiss on Stephens lips, his hand on his now bright yellow soul. Stephen kissed him back, his hand on the back of his head, as if he were trying to pull Jon closer to him.

"It's not broken Stephen..." Jon said once he'd broken the kiss. "Do you not remember? Are you selfish enough to not pay attention to anything that doesn't directly have to do with you?" he joked, an easy smile playing on his lips. "Yellow souls. They crack once they've united with someone elses'." That hit Stephen like a ton of bricks. He looked up at Jon, then down to his soul. He noticed Jon's own soul had become a blue-green that he'd never see it turn before. He almost choked on his own breath once he caught up to what Jon was saying. He nearly nocked the cup containing both his and Jon's toothbrushes as he pushed him against the wall adjacent to the sink and pressed his lips hard against Jon's, allowing for their tongues to flow freely through their mouths. He fumbled with elastic of Jon's underwear, causing him to smile against the kiss.

"Ste...Stephen," his voice was muffled my the insistence of the kiss, then they finally pulled apart.

"I do too..." Stephen replied.

"You do too what?" there was confusion in his tone, and Stephen had to remind himself that not everyone knew what he was thinking. Well, nobody knew what he was thinking, except for himself of course.

"You said you love me...and, I said I do too. I love you Jon Stewart. I have since I saw you. I think I got sick the day after that. My soul hurt."

"Well I think that's the most romantic thing anyone has ever said to me..." Jon replied, a hand loosely on the elastic of Stephen's pajama pants.

"It literally did, Jon. And it wouldn't stop blinking on and off."

"You said you thought you were going to vanish but you didn't. That's almost an unmistakable feeling..."

"Well now whose the one who doesn't listen to things that don't have to do directly with them?" he arched an eyebrow. "We yellows are quite sensitive creatures. The most sensitive of all of us fairies.."

"Stephen, you're not using that as a slang, derogatory term, are you?" his voice steady and casual. Stephen simply ignored his lack of consideration. Who did Jon think he was to interrupt him in the middle of a sentence only to police him with liberal ideology? _Maybe your soulmate_ a little voice hissed in his mind. That little red devil over his left shoulder always disguised as the angel over his right.

"I was saying that..if you don't recall, we yellow humans are fragile creatures. I think my soul was exploding out of love for you. It felt like I was going to die."

"That just beat the other runner up for the most romantic thing someone has ever said to me..."

"I could have still vanished Jon, don't you forget that. I was running out of time, I'm surprised I didn't vanish at all. I think I was one of the oldest silver-greys around."

"Well, that doesn't matter now, does it. You're here and you're fine, and now you don't run the risk of vanishing. I'll be able to sleep better at night."  
"Jon, remember what I said about funny business?" He traced a finger over the smaller scar of his soul as if he were touching a love mark.

"My offer is still up. No funny business until you wan..."

"I wan to, Jon." his voice was small and fragile. His fingers played with the hem of Jon's grey t-shirt.

"You don't have to do that, you don't have to push yourself for me..." Stephen hadn't noticed Jon's hand on his hair until now.

"I'm not doing it for you, I'm doing it for me. I want it. I want...you."

"I want you too Stephen. I have for a while."

"Yeah?" he felt giddy and silly and happy.

"It's been hard to sleep next to you for a year without being able to..."

"My ears are too pristine for your liberal words Jon" and to that he only received a light chuckle for an answer. "Do you think it would be weird if I allow myself to have funny business with you and still talk bad about the gays?"

"A little, yes" Jon smiled.

**Author's Note:**

> The story actually had a different ending but I lost it :<  
> I didn't really add a new ending though. The original ending was just another bit that came after this ending. But It's alright I guess *sobs in the distance* Hope you like. I had already uploaded this but in a fit of depression deleted it.


End file.
